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fast that you'll—"
    "Look, Abby!" Caroline opened the pouch and let the gold coins spill out at her feet. "Money!"
    Abby stared at the gold, clearly beyond coherent speech.
    A small piece of paper caught Caroline's eye. The strange handwriting on it sprawled across the page and, despite the inventive spelling, the meaning was clear. For the first and last time in his life, Aaron Bennett had done right by his daughter. He'd left two hundred dollars in gold coins specifically earmarked for "... the future well-being of Miss Carolyn Luisa Bennett of Boston, Mass...." and some kind person in Silver Spur had seen fit to send it on.
    "Well, Miss O'Brien?" Caroline asked as she let the coins sift through her fingers. "What do you say now?"
    Abby finally looked away from the shimmering mountain of money and shrugged her shoulders. "Well, Miss Caroline," she said, a smile beginning to spread across her face. "I'd say I'd better start packin'."
    Aaron had provided the pot of gold but now it was up to Caroline to find the rainbow.
     
     

 
    Chapter 3
     
     
    Silver Spur - June 1876
     
    For half an hour, Jesse had been listening to Harry Calhoun rattle the rafters of the Golden Dragon. The old man had shouted and cursed and filled the men with tales of horror and slavery until he had almost everyone in that room ready to bear arms against the enemy. Short of bringing General Custer back from the dead to lead them into battle, Jesse didn't know what the old coot could do to stir his audience up any more than they already were.
    "What I'm tellin' you, men, is we got to stick together." Harry was so fired up he sprayed saliva on the first three rows of the audience. "These addlebrained petticoats can swoop down on Silver Spur all they want, but they can't make us marry unless we're willin to marry and I say we ain't willin'!"
    The men crammed into that smoke-filled, whiskey-soaked room with its red velvet drapes and gold chandeliers exploded into whistle and cheers that drowned out Harry's words.
    Jesse lit another cheroot and tilted his chair back against the wall while Old Tom, the crazy prospector, cleaned his nails with the point of his pick axe.
    Damn fools had themselves all worked up just because a couple stagecoaches packed full of spinsters with marriage on their minds had arrived in Silver Spur and those spinsters had managed to corral a few old timers who'd been down in the mines so long that a hot meal and a clean house sounded better than freedom.
    Sam Markham, his bartender at the King of Hearts, ambled over and leaned his narrow butt against the ledge of the window next to Jesse's chair.
    "So, what do you think?" Sam asked "That Calhoun sure can stir 'em up, can't he?"
    Jesse grunted. "The whiskey they guzzled had them pretty stirred up before Harry started talking at them."
    "You ain't takin' this thing serious enough, Jesse. Women comin' into Silver Spur is gonna change things and I don't mean for the better." He waited for an answer but Jesse wasn't about to give him one—not after Sam made him sit through this hogwash.
    Sam's eyes narrowed like he was looking into the midday sun.
    "Quit scowling at me, Sam. You're the one who wanted me to come to this thing." Sam's expression grew more fierce and Jesse tipped his hat over his forehead and made a show of closing his eyes. "You don't scare me."
    "Maybe I don't scare you, but all them women comin' to town ought to."
    "The day I'm scared of something that weighs less than Billy Hansen's mutt is the day you can drag me kickin' and screamin' up to Cemetery Hill."
    "You won't be feelin' so all-fired cocky when your gambling halls and Jade's cathouse go out of business."
    Jesse opened one eye. "You been hittin' Carlos's tequila again, Sam?"
    Sam refused to be cowed. "For a smart man, you're mighty stupid, Jesse. Once the marryin' starts up, there ain't going to be much call for saloons or the Golden Dragon."
    "Then you don't know much about marriage, Sam, because there's